


brother let me be your fortress

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Chara Lovingly Manhandles Everyone, Curses, Gen, Partial Mind Control, Team as Family, The Magic System Is More Fleshed Out Than The Plot, Tuukka Rask Is Done With Everything, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As he walks past Charlie, their arms brush and Tuukka tastes ashes in the back of his throat. On instinct, he glances back at Charlie with his second sight. He stumbles and has to catch himself against the wall. It’s not what he first thought at all. It’s a curse.
Kudos: 67
Collections: Anonymous





	brother let me be your fortress

**Author's Note:**

> This is open ended and not really finished but classes start next week and I don't really think I'm going to have time to get into anything big, so I wanted to get this posted as it is. Maybe I'll write another chapter at some point, but def don't get your hopes up.
> 
> This was (very) loosely inspired by someone posting that cmac couldn't score because he was cursed. 
> 
> Title from a NEEDTOBREATHE song
> 
> Standard warning, this is a work of fiction, inspired by real life figures but not claiming or attempting to portray them accurately. 
> 
> (see end notes for warnings)

Tuukka lets his head drop back to hit the back of his stall and resists the urge to scream. Honestly, his team is lucky he’s tired, because they frankly deserve a good yelling at. He stopped almost 40 shots today and they still lost. At least they didn’t get shut out but that’s cold comfort when they were outshot 39 to 24 and played defense like ten year olds who started skating a month ago. He’s gonna let someone else take this one though, because his ribs are screaming at him and he just wants to get this over with so he can get some sleep. Jaro hasn’t been feeling well, so there’s a good chance Tuukka’ll be in net again against Colorado. He fucking hates Colorado. 

“Tuukks did his best to keep us in this one, men.” Bruce isn’t even yelling. He’s got his 'I’m not mad, I’m disappointed' look on. “And we let him down. That’s not our game. I don’t expect you to win every night, but I expect you to play for each other. That was not the case this evening. The better team won.”

‘Harsh but true,’ Tuukka thinks, peeling out of his pads. He’s immune to the lecture because he knows it’s not for him today. 

“We’ll address some of the problems tomorrow in practice but in the meantime, you should all think about how you’re going to do better for your goaltender and each other.”

Zee says some words after that but Tuukka has already zoned out, going through the motions, counting the seconds until he can go to sleep. He’s about to get into the shower when he looks up to see Charlie McAvoy standing in front of him.

“Are you here to apologize for the piss poor result tonight?” Tuukka asks, still a little angry. Charlie didn’t have the worst game, and at least he didn’t take a million stupid penalties, but he was far from perfect. 

Charlie shakes his head silently and Tuukka realizes that the younger man is holding his arm tightly to his chest. It’s enough to get his attention and make something protective flare to life behind his aching ribs. 

“Are you hurt, because this is not the time to be hiding an injury.”

“I’m not-- I’m fine.” 

Charlie’s words sound completely natural but his body language says he’s lying and his eyes are fixed on Tuukka’s, screaming for help. Tuukka bites his lip hard. He knows what this is, maybe not all of it, but enough. Someone is hurting their young defenseman. 

“You don’t need to apologize for your game,” he says instead of what he wants to say. “We didn’t lose because of you and I know you’ll work hard tomorrow.” 

Charlie’s face falls. “Thanks,” he whispers. 

“Get some sleep.” Tuukka stands to go to the showers. This will be delicate. He needs a plan of attack before he gets in too deep. 

As he walks past Charlie, their arms brush and Tuukka tastes ashes in the back of his throat. On instinct, he glances back at Charlie with his second sight. He stumbles and has to catch himself against the wall. It’s not what he first thought at all. It’s a curse.

The curse appears to be rooted in Charlie’s arm, but the oily tendrils, like vines, stretch all the way up to his throat. Tuukka doesn’t get a very good look at it but what he sees is enough to make him want to run to the showers in a vain attempt to wash away the residue. By the time he catches his breath, Charlie is already gone. 

* * *

As soon as he gets to the hotel, he seeks out Bruce. This isn’t a hedgewitch curse. This is serious shit and the front office needs to be involved. 

Bruce opens the door on the first knock. “Tuukka.”

He opens his mouth to tell Bruce about the curse but what comes out instead is, “I’m worried about Chuck’s level of play.” 

He snaps his mouth shut. _ Fuck_.

“Can you tell me what exactly concerns you?” Bruce asks, his face not giving anything away. 

Now that he’s expecting it, Tuukka can feel the tendril of Charlie’s curse flare to life when he opens his mouth to answer. He grits his teeth and fights it. “I think he might be--” It coils around his neck, not quite tight enough to cut off his breathing. 

“Might be?” Bruce prompts when he doesn’t go on. 

The tendril sprouts wicked thorns and the psychic pain leaves him breathless and dizzy. This is not going to work. 

“-- might be hurt,” Tuukka manages to spit out against the curse. “I’m sorry I need to go.” 

He doesn’t wait to hear what Bruce has to say, just bolts for his room. He stumbles through the door and half collapses on the edge of the bed. Now that he isn’t trying to say anything, the curse is no longer actively hurting him, but the thorns are deeply embedded in his neck and he’s going to need to pull them out. 

“This is gonna suck,” he mutters to himself. 

The angle is bad, even looking with his second sight, he can’t really see the vine. He’s going to have to do this by feeling. He reaches down blindly and brushes something that feels half-rotten. The moment he makes contact with the curse, it flares to life. The thorns press in and he swallows a scream. He forces himself to grip the thrashing vine harder, he can’t afford for it to get a foothold under his skin. Panting with effort, he rips it out. The pain turns his vision black and when he comes back to himself, he’s lying on the bed. He feels something dripping down his collarbone and when he touches it, his fingers come back bloody. 

“Tuukks, open the door!”

Someone is yelling but he’s too dizzy to get up. “Can’t,” his voice comes out as a croak. 

He hears muffled swearing before the door swings open and gentle hands guide him to lay back against the pillows. 

“You’re bleeding. What happened?” Patrice asks. 

“How’d you get in?” Tuukka asks, trying to give himself time to figure out what to say and how to say it. 

Patrice frowns slightly, trying to figure out why he’s delaying probably. “Borrowed a bit from Marchy. Bruce said you were acting odd and then I felt--” 

Tuukka nods. “Yeah. It’s not me.” 

He guides Patrice’s hand up to his still bleeding neck. It should hurt when their joined hands press on the open cuts but Patrice’s hands are buzzing with power and there’s nothing but a gentle hum. Tuukka loosens his shielding enough for Patrice to see his memories and lets himself fall into it, trusting the other man won’t push. 

“Fuck,” says Patrice. “A curse strong enough to spread like that is some bad shit.” 

Tuukka agrees. “It’s bad.” 

Patrice takes his hand away from Tuukka’s neck leaving unblemished skin behind. “I need to talk to Zee and Krej. Can I show them?”

Tuukka nods easily. 

Patrice stills and disappears from Tuukka’s second sight as he goes to talk to the others. 

“Tuukka? Tuukka!” Carlo sounds like he’s right outside the door and the panic in his voice is enough to get Tuukka up on still shaky legs. 

“What happened?” he asks opening the door. Behind him, Patrice slowly begins to move again.

“Something’s wrong with Charlie.”

* * *

When they get to the room that Gryz and Charlie share, Charlie is laid out on the floor, a sweatshirt under his head. Gryz kneeling by his side, murmuring softly. 

“He just collapsed, had a seizure or something. Jake went to get Donny.”

“Don’t bother it’s a curse,” says Patrice. 

Charlie’s eyes snap open and he screams, clawing at his neck.

“Oh fuck!” Patrice and Gryz say at the same time. 

Tuukka slides automatically into his second sight. He distantly feels Patrice call for Zee and Krej, and tell Brandon to get Pasta, but Tuukka’s attention is on the thorny vines of the curse, biting into Charlie’s vulnerable neck and cutting off his air. 

“Can you hold him until Pasta and Zee get here?” Patrice asks. Tuukka knows he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious. 

“Yeah, I’ve got him,” he says. He’s exhausted. Fighting the curse, on top of the game he just played is taking its toll. This is gonna suck. 

“Gryz, in or out?” Patrice asks. 

Gryz swallows hard. “In. I can anchor until Zee gets here. I’m not very good but you can’t go with no anchor.”

Tuukka studies him. Gryz is scared, but he cares about Charlie. He won’t break. Tuukka nods once. “Bergy, you shielding?”

“Since we got here,” says Patrice. “Go. We’ve got you.” 

Without giving himself time to think about it, Tuukka plunges his hands in the mass of oily black vines covering Charlie’s upper body. 

It burns. The curse isn’t sentient but it feels like it takes vicious satisfaction in hurting him. The pain makes him dizzy, but it’s thinking about Chuck fighting this alone that has him swallowing back bile. He makes his hands grip the vines, pushing his shields out to try to separate the curse from Charlie’s body. It’s dangerous. Patrice would not be happy that he’s putting himself at risk like this, but he’s more concerned about Charlie right now. The curse bubbles up. Fire races up his arms but he doesn’t let go. His shields tremble and flicker where they touch the tendrils. 

His awareness of Gryz begins to slip away. He had hoped they might get a little longer, but Gryz said himself that he wasn’t an experienced anchor. Between letting go of Charlie to grab Gryz and focusing on the curse, it’s not even a choice. He’s just going to have to trust that Zee will be able to deal with it before something goes really wrong. 

“No!” someone yells. It’s right in his ear but he registers the sound distantly. Hands grab him and power floods in. It burns as much as the curse does, maybe more. Tuukka screams. Raw power explodes out of his hands. The curse withers in his grasp, overwhelmed by the deluge. 

Passing out without reinforcing the holes in his shields is beyond dangerous, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. The last thing he remembers is a large hand on the back of his neck and someone telling him to hold on, before everything goes fuzzy and he blacks out for the second time in as many hours.

* * *

He wakes up to the sound of yelling. 

“Can’t a man sleep off his headache in peace?” he slurs.

“Thank fuck,” says Patrice with feeling. “Zee, he’s awake.”

He is able to gather himself together enough to figure out that he’s laying on a couch. Charlie is on one bed, Gryz curled up next to him, both sleeping. Pasta is on the other bed, leaning against the headboard as Krej yells at him in Czech, in hushed tones. 

“How are you feeling?” Zee asks. 

Tuukka has to consciously pull his attention away from Krej and Pasta. “Shitty. What happened?”

“Before or after you almost killed yourself trying to save Charlie?” asks Patrice tartly. 

Oh yeah, he’s pissed. “I think that’s a little dramatic, Bergy.”

“Dramatic?” Patrice breathes out through his nose. “You stopped breathing! The only reason you’re still here is because David is an idiot who dumped enough raw power into the two of you to power a small city.” 

Okay, that’s maybe a little worse than he thought. He opens his mouth to apologize for making Patrice worry but what he says instead is, “Does that mean I don’t have to start against the Avs?”

Patrice throws up his hands. 

Zee’s face doesn’t change but Tuukka can see he’s relieved. “We’ll see.”

“Is Charlie okay?”

Patrice bites his lip. “He’s better. Our theory is that when we talked about the spellwork, it somehow triggered self-protective measures.”

Tuukka blinks as he takes a second to untangle what Patrice is saying. “So he’s still--”

Zee makes a sharp gesture. “Krej recommends that we don’t refer to it directly to avoid accidentally triggering anything. But yes.” 

“Fuck,” says Tuukka. “I’m no specialist but I’d say we’re in over our heads on this one. Is there no way to get the staff involved safely?”

Krej finally stops yelling at Pasta and runs a gentle hand through his hair, at odds with his harsh words. Pasta closes his eyes and curls into the touch. 

Patrice sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Someone on the inside is involved.”

Tuukka blinks, dragging himself back to the conversation at hand. “What?”

“Someone on the staff,” says Krej, without moving from Pasta’s side. “Maybe someone in the front office.”

“What the fuck?” Tuukka demands, suddenly fully awake. “You think one of our people is involved?”

“Know it.” Krej finally looks up, eyes serious. “There is no way that spellwork went undetected unless someone was covering it up. Think about it, Tuukks. Patrice showed us how fast you noticed once you were looking and he’s young, they screen him twice as often as us.” 

He has to admit that Krej is right, but it doesn’t sit well in his stomach. The league is always ready to fuck them over but the Bruins have been good to him, good to his team. Zee and Patrice look similarly distraught about it. 

“I did not want to believe it either,” Zee says. “But we will do what we must to protect our team.” 

“The first order of business is to deal with Charlie,” says Krej. 

Tuukka nods. “I agree, but how? Do you have any curse-breakers you trust on speed dial?”

Across the room, Charlie whimpers, suddenly going tense in his sleep. 

“Fuck, _fuck,_ shit,” snaps Patrice. “Krej!”

Tuukka tries to get up but Zee presses him down again with one hand. “Don’t even think about it. You’re in no state to help.” 

“Patrice, grab him!” Krej orders. 

Gryz blinks blearily. “What’s happen-- Charlie!”

“Matt, let them work,” says Zee, pulling the younger man out of the way. 

Patrice holds Charlie down with two hands pressed on his chest, firm but soothing. 

Krej’s head snaps up. “Tuukks, look at this and tell me what you think.”

“Don’t push,” says Zee as he moves to let Tuukka through. 

“No promises,” Tuukka mutters. He stumbles, catching himself on the bed and tapping into his second sight. Seeing nothing but oily vines, he pushes forward into what Zee calls his third sight. Finally, the spellwork slides into focus. 

It’s ugly. There are at least four layers and they spill into each other, pooling and mixing unpredictably. He can see glimpses of a wireframe skeleton under the raw energy. He tries to find the anchor points but they seem to vanish each time he probes further. 

_ Are you seeing this? _ Krej asks, mind-to-mind. 

_ I’ve never seen spellwork like this before_, says Tuukka. _ Patrice? _

Instead of answering directly, Patrice sends an impression of confusion, exhaustion, and the barest glimpse of pure panic as he fights to hold onto the spell. 

_ Shit, Patrice isn’t gonna be able to deal with the backlash for much longer. We need to do something about the top layer. _Krej can’t mask his concern when they’re speaking like this. 

_ How? I could barely even locate the anchor points. _

Krej wavers for a moment. _There’s no time._ _We’re gonna have to isolate the whole thing._

_ What do you need from me? _Tuukka asks. 

Krej mentally takes a breath. _ Tell me what you’re seeing and step in if it gets out of control? _

_ Done_.

Tuukka can see the exact moment that Krej begins the process of disrupting the spellwork, glittering gold slipping into the gaps of the curse. Back in the real world he distantly hears Patrice grunt with effort as the curse fights back. 

Krej’s magic has always reminded Tuukka of water. He doesn’t fight the spell with force, he simply lets his own power fill the spaces and hold them. Every time the curse ebbs before a surge, Krej is there, pressing his power up to the very edges. When the curse batters his walls, he shores himself up, secure in the center of his power. 

_ Close? _ he asks.

Tuukka hums. _ Patrice can’t hold on much longer. You need to make a push on the next one. I’ll help _. 

_ Don’t overextend. You’re close to burnout. _

_ I won’t. I’m just going to backstop you. I’ll hold the border, you push forward. _

Tuukka expects to have to argue his case for longer but, Krej must be exhausted because he agrees. Tuukka steps forward in his mind, reaching out to find the edge of Krej’s power, blazing gold. 

_ Stay inside_, Krej orders. 

Tuukka can tell he’s scared. _ Don’t worry, I won’t try the poke check. _

Krej laughs, strained but real. 

After teasing Krej, it’s easy to visualize himself settling into his crease. Raw dark power is quite a bit more dangerous than pucks but Tuukka hates losing at the best of times and he’s not about to lose here with his teammates’ lives on the line. 

_ Get ready_. 

Tuukka steals himself. The moment the curse wavers, Krej slams his power forward. Tuukka reinforces the boundary of Krej’s power with his shields. True to his word, he doesn’t sink any of his own power into it, no matter how much he wants to. Krej is right. He can’t risk burnout, he’ll have to hold the line with his mind and nothing else. Luckily, he’s no stranger to relying on his mental toughness to save the day. It goes with the job. 

Oily raw power crashes into him. He grits his teeth and holds on. Patrice screams. Krej’s power flashes white hot. Something snaps into place and the resulting backlash sends Tuukka slamming back into his physical body. 

“Patrice? Krej?” he croaks. His throat feels like he’s been screaming for hours. 

“It’s done,” Krej slurs. 

“Patrice, you good?”

“Fine,” says Patrice but he sounds like he did right before his lung collapsed and he isn’t shaking off Zee’s helping hand, so he’s probably not fine. 

Tuukka raises an eyebrow but doesn’t call him on it. They’re all tired. 

“Is Charlie okay?” Gryz demands, wide-eyed and frightened. 

Like he’s been waiting for his name, Charlie’s eyes snap open and he bolts up gasping. 

Zee grabs him before he can fall off of the bed. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”

“”I-- I’m sorry. I--” Charlie stutters out. 

Tuukka cuts him off. “It’s okay. We know about the curse. We’re going to take care of it.”

Charlie flinches visibly at the word _ curse_. He holds himself very still, as if bracing for pain, then when nothing happens, he begins to cry. 

Zee pulls the younger man into his arms and rubs his back soothingly. “We’ve got you. We’ve got you.” 

Numbly watching Zee hold Charlie, Tuukka suddenly realizes that he’s sitting on the floor, and scrambles up. Patrice is sitting on the edge of the bed with his head between his knees. Next to him, Krej is softly speaking to Pasta, who appears to be asleep. 

“I’m surprised Brad hasn’t knocked the door down yet,” Tuukka teases Patrice. 

He huffs. “I’m sure he wanted to, but he’s on distraction duty with Torey. Backes is keeping an eye on Brandon and everyone else.” 

Patrice looks awful. His face is pale and sweaty, almost gray. Tuukka reaches out and cards his hands through Patrice’s hair, letting him draw comfort from the touch. “Brad’ll be here soon. We’ll work it out.” 

“How did we miss this?” Patrice bursts out. “Someone in our organization was hurting him and we didn’t even notice.” 

Typical Patrice to take everything onto himself. Tuukka hums. “We weren’t meant to notice it. Everything about the curse was designed to keep him alone.” 

“That’s no excuse,” Patrice says softly. “How will he learn to trust us after we let something like this happen?”

“He does trust us,” Tuukka counters. “He reached out and we dealt with it as soon as we realized what it was. Obviously I wish we had known sooner, but we didn’t abandon him, Bergy. He knows that.” 

“Tuukks is right,” says Krej, his accent thick, in the way it only gets when he’s pushed too hard.

Tuukka frowns. “Is Pasta okay? I’m surprised the screaming didn’t wake him.”

Krej smiles thinly. “I’m not. He’s burnt out. The backlash will probably have him out for a few more hours at least.” 

“I need to thank him for saving my life if Bergy is to be believed.” He’s teasing. Patrice would never lie about something like that. 

His plan works. Patrice swats him in the back of the head. “Ungrateful! You’re such a brat Tuukks.”

Krej gives Tuukka a knowing look, before shaking his head. “We’re not out of the woods yet. We still need to unravel the rest of the curse.” 

The prospect is daunting from what little Tuukka saw of it. “And beat the Avs,” he adds to lighten the mood. 

Krej sighs. “And beat the Avs, can’t forget that.”

Patrice manages a strained laugh that looks painful, but his face is clearer and his shoulders are straighter. 

Tuukka smirks, despite the exhaustion and the pain. “After all this, I really think Jaro should get the start tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> warnings:  
body horror - the curse is described as thorny vines cutting onto skin which is described in moderate detail  
partial mind control - the curse keeps charlie from telling anyone that it exists, when tuukka finds out, that extends to him too, it's heavily implied that talking openly about the curse causes charlie pain  
abuse of authority - this is only referenced but the players come to the conclusion that someone on the staff or front office is involved in cursing charlie, this is upsetting for all of them  
there is also a blink and you'll miss it reference to abuse when charlie first tries to tell tuukka about the curse
> 
> please let me know if there is anything else you think should be tagged


End file.
